CHICKEN ALEGRETE:
“I have been addicted to the Chicken Alegrete since the moment those glorious sauces were mixed and slathered atop the seasoned chicken and thicc ciabatta.
I’m addicted to the Chicken Alegrete! There, I said it! Yes, I have an addiction, and I need help. Badly. It all started in the moment I took my first bite. It was magical; life changing even.
I knew at that moment that there was no going back; I was in a committed relationship with a sandwich. I craved the way the sauce and chunky chicken went down my throat; I NEEDED IT.
As my tolerance went up, so did my cravings. One sandwich simply wasn’t enough anymore; I often began to wander into the DECA store late at night, sifting through the fridge looking for a fix. Sometimes, I would get lucky and there would be a sandwich, glistening in the moonlight, waiting on the counter for me. Other times, I would end up in the trash, looking for half eaten Alegretes.”
It’s embarrassing to say but I think this sandwich has turned in to more than a want, more than a need; it’s a legitimate medical condition at this point. Some people are allergic to nuts, or shellfish. Me, I’m allergic to not having a Chicken Alegrete at least once a day. If I don’t, my skin breaks out in hives.
I know its a problem, but I just can’t help myself. I don’t know what to do at this point. Please help!”
BIZKNO:
“I have been addicted to BIZKNO for 27.5 years. Most students loved the idea of a quest for knowledge but, for me, the quest quickly became a hunt.
I have this Nerf gun. It launches confetti with Steve Darnell’s face on it. It confuses some, but I consider this my way of spreading my beliefs.
The moment the words ‘BIZKNO’ were uttered out God Steve Darnell’s mouth, I was hooked; I knew this would be my hobby, my passion, my addiction. I find myself roaming the halls of Liberty late at night wandering aimlessly for my Lord and savior Steve Darnell; usually, I am followed by cops yelling ‘YOU GRADUATED 23 YEARS AGO,’ but they just don’t understand what it means to me.
I quiz myself with Darnell-isims nightly, reciting them over and over to feel closer to the Bizkno. Of course I don’t use flash cards, for those are too sophmoric. I yawp at least three times daily; once before each meal of the day, and it’s starting to tear my family apart. My mom stopped calling; even my cat won’t sit on my lap because I’m always pacing with my stolen APUSH textbook.
My life is falling apart before my eyes. I see Steve Darnell everywhere; on the streets, in magazines, on TV, at the park, the beach, on Facebook (he keeps denying my friend request), and even in my own reflection. I’m worried that if I don’t get help, I will slowly BECOME him. But would that be such a bad thing?”